What Is ?
by MilenaMatos
Summary: SY Conversations


Fic: What Is . . . ?  
  
Author: MilenaMatos  
  
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine and never will be :-(  
  
What is . . . ?  
  
Love is just a fantasy, I convinced myself of this early in life. No, I wouldn't say I was miserable, not . . . exactly. Maybe life was strange, fast; people came in and out of my life every day. They never gave a shit about me, so I gave the same for them.  
  
Oh, come on, Kudo, it's not like you've had so much luck yourself. You search for love in absolutely every person you go to bed with. Me? No, you wouldn't fall for me. If you did . . .  
  
What were we talking about? Oh, yeah, Love. I fell in love once. Or at least I thought I did . . . What happened? I'm still trying to decide. I don't know if whatever I felt died, or if he killed it, or whether it even existed. All I know is that one day I woke up and I looked at him and I realized . . . he didn't mean anything to me anymore. No, I'm not unhappy about it. Hell, it wasn't like he loved me back and we rode into the sunset together. No, that shit's not for me, never will be. I hope.  
  
No, Kudo, not everyone lives their whole life waiting for their soulmate, for that person they're supposed to spend the rest of their lives with. Look at us, at Weiss, Schwarz. Do you think Fujimiya is ever going to . . . ? Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Well, whatever. If you want to call me a liar or a pessimist, have it your way. I like me, I like the way I am, the way I think . . . Come to think of it, you like me, too, or you wouldn't sit there and listen to me for hours . . . Sure, sure, insult my voice now. If you don't like it, then leave. . . Hm, I thought so. No, I won't say anything, I've already hurt your pride enough times tonight.  
  
Anyway, Love . . . It's nice to think about, isn't it? I've never met anyone who didn't grow up with some idea of who and what they wanted "someday." Even I, when I was young, read candy-coated fairytales. They gave me something to look forward in life, sort of like when someone asks you "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Well, I wanted to be a prince and rescue a princess and live happily ever after . . . Don't be an asshole, Kudo. Well, at least I grew out of it, unlike you, who keeps thinking that's going to happen some day. I should be the one laughing at you, for being such a . . .  
  
They were dreams. Every kid needs dreams, Hell, *everyone* needs dreams. What would we be without them? Could we even go on living if we didn't have at least some fantasy, a hope, something to look forward to in life? What do I dream about? . . . I don't . . . know. Yes, yes, I know, my little speech and all, I must have at least one. But . . . I don't know if I can share this just yet . . . Yeah, Yohji, I know you wouldn't tell anyone. In fact, you better not tell anyone about this or I swear I'll . . . Yeah, I could erase your memories. The question is, do I really want to?  
  
Crawford has dreams, sure, so do Nagi and Farfarello. Sometimes they hope they could be anything else than what they are, I mean, don't you? Don't we all? If you heard half the things people think, you'd have committed suicide by now. Some people can be downright depressing. Let them get to me? Don't be ridiculous! I'm still alive, aren't I? Besides, I said *you*, not me. So there.  
  
Do I like people? What kind of a stupid question is that? Do you? Ah, you believe everyone has the potential for both good and evil and they decide which they're gonna be. One or the other, though. Is it so hard to believe there could be someone that was both? It goes against your whole ideology, doesn't it? Do I think I'm both? Well, aren't you? Do you think it's possible to *kill* and still be good? Depends on the reason . . . Have I ever told you you're really fucked up, Yohji? If the world is the way you picture it, then there is no middle ground, no gray, no space for redemption . . . I'm never going to be a good guy, Yohji, it's just not in me. Let's drop this, okay? I'm not in the mood for some weird, childish discussion on whether *I* have the choice or the potential to be the way you think I should be. . .  
  
Or maybe that's your dream.  
  
I try not to make myself sick with some of the things people worry about: school-girls wondering if the boy they like will ask them out; women beating themselves up over whether they should get married or not. And guys are no different, let me tell you, although . . . Hn, I forget who I'm talking to. Yeah, you, Mr. Hopeless Romantic. You can say whatever you want, but I can see inside you; I know what you want, your dreams, your hopes, even your darkest fantasies-- because you do have many of them, you know. Everytime we meet you hope it'll be the day I'll kill you, or that you'll finally have the guts to kill me. You hate it when you touch me, when you kiss me, because you know it's wrong. What if your team mates found out? Would they care that you come here because you want to? Would they believe you if you told them you choose to? It wouldn't make a difference, you think, because I'm what I am, or who I am, and the pure, perfect Yohji Kudo would never touch a hair of mine unless I made him. Yeah, I know you wonder about that sometimes: does he make me want him? Well, do I? Only you can answer that question. No matter what they say, nobody can change what you or anyone else feels.  
  
I did say I don't believe in love. I never said feelings don't exist. In any case, I should really say that true love doesn't exist . . . Well, it doesn't. It's one of those things you have to see to believe. Yeah, I know. Look, I'm tired, I don't care if I make any sense or not . . . Sleep here tonight . . . ? You mean, together?  
  
Most people don't enjoy being alone. Maybe I don't sometimes, either. Still, it's not realistic . . . Love doesn't have to be logical, I know. Maybe that's why I don't believe in it: it makes absolutely no sense. Sure, there's affection, some people call that love. Have I ever felt . . . ? Well, I'm still human you know, superior than most, but human. And maybe, when we're here, I allow myself to have . . . normal human reactions. You flatter yourself. The "Kudo charm." Do you really believe you're so irresistible? Well, let's see if that's true, if we both live twenty years from now. I know, you don't like to think about getting old. We're the same age, idiot, do I have to keep reminding you of that? It must be nice, to live in your little fantasy world . . .  
  
Would I mind if you held me . . .? You ask too many damn questions, Kudo.  
  
Does it really matter if they know about us? They can believe whatever they want, both Weiss and Schwarz. Yeah, I guess you could say that, this is our gray ground. Seems funny, doesn't it? Would they see it like we do? Does it really matter, Yohji? Forget about them. Let them break their minds over it . We're here now and they don't exist in our little world. Right now . . . they don't exist. 


End file.
